Tradition
by Esrafil
Summary: Axel, Roxas. Interrupted reading, talk of Christmas, and distraction. Some boys kissing, don't read if that isn't your thing. 'Roxas weighed the merits of just punching him and being done with it.'


Title: Tradition  
Author: esrafil  
Disclaimer: Not my characters.  
Characters: Axel, Roxas.  
Summary: Axel interrupts, Roxas retaliates.

Axel snatched the book from Roxas's grasp before he even noticed the other had entered the room. He frowned up at the redhead as he held out his hand. "Give it back." The words were demand more than request, though he knew the chances of them being heeded in either case were slim.

As though Axel hadn't heard the words at all, he plopped on the chair adjacent to the window seat Roxas occupied -- just out of hitting range. He began to flip through the pages, eyes catching words here and there, but Roxas knew he wasn't all that interested in the words. "It's Christmas time, shouldn't you be reading something more festive?"

Roxas rolled his eyes. "This coming from you who barely bothers to read at all?"

"This is boring. It's just some guy rambling on about voices he can't see." Okay, so maybe he was reading part of it. Besides, Axel had the habit of being annoyingly observant.

His response sounded more cynical than he felt. "People standing around covered in tinsel and singing songs about suspiciously colored reindeer carting around an old man would hardly be any more exciting." The holidays weren't his to be a part of. Brows furrowed, he toed off his shoes.

There was a pause, then Axel laughed and shook his head. "Man, is that your idea of Christmas?"

Roxas shrugged as he shifted to push his shoe back toward him. "How should I know? It's not like I've ever celebrated." This time bitterness managed to creep in, but just barely. He hooked the back of one shoe between two fingers and aimed squarely for Axel's head.

"Truth be told neither have I." In one hand Axel caught the projectile. Damn. Not that he had thought it would really work, but it had been a nice though. "But that doesn't mean I have to be _ignorant _about it."

Arms folded across his chest, Roxas frowned, decidedly not sulking. The library had just as many other books readily available, but he knew the cycle would just keep repeating. Against his better judgment, he asked, "Did you want anything?"

"Just your sparkling company, as always." Axel grinned at Roxas, managing to make an ostensibly amicable gesture insufferable.

Roxas weighed the merits of just punching him and being done with it. Instead, an idea struck him. He sat up, leaning his weight on the palms of his hands. "I did read one thing about Christmas."

"Oh yeah?" The other looked at him lazily, but Roxas could tell he was more alert than before.

He knew he was being transparent. Even so, he stood up, circling around where Axel sat as he spoke, tone indifferent, "There's this silly tradition people have. They hang parasitic plants in their homes -- doorways, windows, wherever, hoping to catch two people off-guard. 'Standing beneath the mistletoe', they call it." He perched on one of the arms of the chair, leaning over so that a few unruly strands of hair tickled his nose. "When it happens, they're supposed to kiss to the entertainment of others, chagrin to themselves." His voice hadn't changed in inflection, dispassionate, though as his eyes locked on Axel's the corners of his lips twitched. "Know what I don't understand?"

"I could hazard a guess." There was no betrayal of any discomposure on the redhead's part, but Roxas could tell he was tense, holding himself perfectly still -- waiting. "But don't let me interrupt you, do continue."

"Why they need a completely arbitrary excuse to kiss someone."

He turned his head so that their lips met, light and teasing before Axel grabbed the back of his coat and pulled him closer, practically halfway into his lap. One hand braced against the back of the chair to keep his balance, he shifted to a better position. Teeth grazed against Axel's lower lip as he grabbed his book and pulled away, quick to regain his footing.

Triumphant, he returned to his window seat. Knees pulled protectively to his chest, he propped the book against them and began to read again. Except he could feel Axel being too smug. He looked up and asked, "What're you smirking about? I have my book back."

"But I still have your other shoe."


End file.
